Chaahat

CHAPTER TWO

The early morning sun had just begun to peek through the fleeting summer clouds. The sparrows welcomed the sun god, singing his praises to bless them with a good feed, and a good day. Why didn't humans welcome him the same? Surely he did enough to sustain his children, then why did a certain teenager wince in visible frustration as his soft rays hit him in the eyes?

Routines are anything but exciting, so how could Abhimanyu betray his teen years by smiling at the sun like he had already turned fifty? Is what said child in question would answer.

Abhimanyu probably wasn't just any other teen either, for you could at least credit him for sticking to the routine of waking up at 5.28 am sharp every day. He was good at sucking up all his emotions, from the smallest ones to those that wrecked you inside. Maybe that is what made him fifty. (okay, too cring-ey for the morning right?)

Sparing himself of the annoying default ringtone, he slammed the alarm clock shut. Picking up his shoes from the small walk-in closet, he shut his door with the lightest sound he could make.A small trip to the kitchen and he was ready for the day. Getting out of the villa pushing back the boundary gate, he gave a small mock salute to the guard and began his jog.

He had been following this routine for so long, that he did it almost mindlessly, not really realising how his surroundings would change every minute. He couldn't remember why he stuck to it anymore.

He knew it initially began in the sixth grade summer camp when his coach asked them to gather in the school for basketball training. Starting eighth, he did it to build his stamina. And now? He had absolutely no idea. And would it be bad if he admitted that he felt nothing close to the runner's high people so often talked about? To him even this had become a chore he had to get over with, just like any other part of his life...

Amidst finding true love (eugh?) and dealing with the regular peer pressures of schools, there were hardly any students left in the locality to assist him in his jog. Despite heavy overthinking about his morning runs, Abhimanyu was pretty satisfied with his usual company of - the street dogs he fed so lovingly every day, the small group of senior citizens indulging in morning yoga and the tea stall owner of chamanchai(cliché, yes; he knows.)

He did not understand the trend of people listening to loud music as they ran. What were they trying to prove? That they had the privilege of calling themselves busy elitists who did not have a care in the world or that they were too hopeless to be approached with silence? Too busy to get out of the cages they had been trapped in?

Giving a small smile to himself, for thinking too much into things even when he knew change was hardly possible in this part of the society, he hummed to his own arguments. Hope had to be left after all, it just had to.

Was he even a valid spokesperson to this topic when he was himself in the loop, at the beck and call of his father to take up their business and expand? When all that it actually translated to was, "I gave birth to you so the money stays in the house." Sometimes to make light of the situation he would find himself laughing as all of this sounded too 'filmy' to be true, especially given the age he was in. But then reality would hit in, whenever he listened by the closed doors of his parents' study, and his heart would sink.

Chuckling at the illegitimacy of his own arguments he saw his favorite post run- pre- get- ready for school partner, Ram uncle. He saw the man stretching into a trikonasana near the park bench and jogged over to him greeting him with a hello.

After the general small talk was over and the duo began stretching and working out in silence, Abhimanyu asked something he had on his mind a week ago. It had the potential of bugging him for a year but only if there wasn't any Monday test the school had in mind.